


Speak Up, My Friend

by Hazel_Athena



Series: LMTTG 'Verse [5]
Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Fluff, Friendship, M/M, Overprotective
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-13 01:27:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16007414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hazel_Athena/pseuds/Hazel_Athena
Summary: Set after Lead Me to the Gallows - Red reveals a previously unknown protective streak.





	Speak Up, My Friend

**Author's Note:**

> I was digging through my notes to see if I could find something to procrastinate on instead of my current WIP. Stumbled over this which has been sitting there virtually complete for months, and gave it a quick polish.

Figuring out when Red Harvest is acting strange can be something of a process. The youngest member of their little gang of reprobates is a hard man to get to know, and not simply because he’s so quiet. Red has a noted tendency to keep his own counsel, meaning it’s a rare instance when he just comes out and says something is bothering him.

Given all of the above, Vasquez thinks he can be forgiven for not noticing anything sooner. He’s been free from captivity for a number of weeks at this point, and everyone’s been treating him differently in that time span, almost as if the whole crew is worried he’s going to break if he’s not handled correctly. Each man shows his concern in his own way, some much more blatantly than others, he thinks fondly, and Red is no exception.

It’s as he heals, in fact, that Vasquez realizes not all is as it seems where Red is concerned. The younger man is as attentive as the rest of their friends when Vasquez is newly back, covered in bruises and more the worse for wear. Once the bruises fade, however, that’s when Red’s behaviour changes.

He’s not rude, exactly, indeed he’s entirely cordial, and still accommodating whenever Vasquez winces due to the faint twinge of some still present injury or eyes the last remnants of the supper pot more hungrily than most. Yet, at the same time he’s … guarded, almost, as if there’s constantly something he wants to say, but can’t quite commit to. Vasquez has never thought of Red as being inclined to hold back when he’s unimpressed by something – disdain, after all, had being one of the first emotions he’d ever witnessed from the man – so it’s unexpected to see him do so now.

Finally, Vasquez caves and asks Faraday one afternoon while they’re sitting side by side in the shade of a massive tree on the edge of their latest campsite. Sam had decided to stop earlier than usual because the heat was starting to get to the horses, and they were in no rush to be anywhere. Wanting to take advantage of the potential for some time alone, the two of them had melted into the woods as soon as they’d finished setting up camp. They’ll have to go back eventually to help with getting supper moving, but for now they’re on their own.

“Do you think I did something?” He asks, and Faraday makes a questioning noise beside him.

“Hmm?” Faraday blinks slowly once or twice before stretching languidly, the motion one Vasquez is able to feel where they’re pressed together from shoulder to hip. “What’d you say?”

Vasquez can’t help but laugh, and he playfully swats at his companion. “You falling asleep on me, guero?”

“Might be,” Faraday admits. He stretches again, even more heavily than before, until his shirt rides up to reveal a sliver of pale skin just below its hem. Idly, he scratches at the exposed flesh. “What’re we talkin’ about then?”

“I asked if you thought I did something to Red. Without meaning to, I mean.” Vasquez shrugs when Faraday frowns up at him in obvious confusion. “He’s been distant the past few days. More so than usual, but only with me.”

“So ask him,” Faraday replies. “Red ain’t the type to beat around the bush. If somethin’s botherin’ him, he’ll tell you.”

“Easy for you to say,” Vasquez points out. “I don’t have the same relationship with Red that you do, guero. We are friends, yes. Comrades, certainly. You two, however, you’re something more.”

Now Faraday’s grin turns sly. “You jealous?” He asks glibly, and then yelps when Vasquez is forced to shove at him on principle. “Hey!”

“I’m not jealous, I assure you,” Vasquez says firmly, rolling his eyes when Faraday pouts up at him from where he’s now sprawled on his back in the dirt. “I know what you feel for me, I know what you feel for Red, and I know the two are not the same.”

“Damn right they’re not.” His expression softening, Faraday sits up and hooks his chin over Vasquez’s shoulder. “I’ve absolutely no interest in gettin’ up with Red what I do with you.”

“I never thought you did. What I do think, though,” and here Vasquez’s tone goes serious, “is that I’ve upset him somehow. I know he was pleased to see me when I got back, he made that as clear as anyone in his own way, but now that I’m healed he seems … I don’t know. Annoyed, perhaps. Careful, maybe.”

Faraday clicks his tongue thoughtfully. “Could be he’s just decided you’re in good enough shape not to be fussed over anymore, and this is him sayin’ everythin’ can go back to normal.”

“No, I don’t think that’s it,” Vasquez disagrees. “He’s not acting like he does with Sam or Billy or whoever either. It’s entirely different.”

“Well then, the way I see it, you’ve got only one option.” At Vasquez’s questioning noise, Faraday chuckles, the close confines of the way they’re sitting making it so his warm breath gusts over Vasquez’s cheek. “Talk to him. I guarantee you he’ll tell you if anythin’s wrong.”

Vasquez sighs, and at the same time cants his head back slightly to give Faraday better access as he shuffles closer. “I suppose you’re right,” he says, breath hitching slightly as one of Faraday’s hands lands on his hip, skilled fingers beginning to untuck his shirt from his pants. “I don’t like the idea of there being tension between us.”

“Yeah, tension’s bad for morale,” Faraday agrees. He looks up at Vasquez with a look of impish delight creasing his features. “In the meantime, though, how about you let me see if I can distract you?”

“You’re ridiculous,” Vasquez tells him, but offers up no further protests.

*****

Most of the others are sitting around the beginnings of a campfire by the time they wander back over to the camp. Only Red and Jack are missing, and that could be due to a whole host of reasons.

“There you two are,” Goodnight says when he spots them coming. “I was starting to think we’d have to send out a search party.”

“You wouldn’t’ve liked what you found,” Faraday snorts, the sound turning into a full-throated laugh when Goodnight makes a displeased face. “Oh come on, Goody, like you and Billy didn’t wander off to do the exact same thing.”

“We need some water for the cooking pot,” Sam cuts in smoothly, no doubt hoping to stop a potential argument in its tracks. “Red’s already gone to get some, but if one of you lot wants to join him he’ll be able to avoid needing two trips. Any volunteers?”

“Me.” Vasquez says, deciding now is as good a time as any to approach Red about his concerns. They don’t often get time alone together, so this is a chance too good to pass up. “Where are the containers?”

Faraday gives him a knowing look as he passes him, but says nothing. Pointedly ignoring him, Vasquez continues on about his business, not stopping until he hears the telltale sound of running water and comes out of the trees near the bank. He can see Red kneeling at the edge of the water, and heads for him.

“Sam wanted one of us to save you a trip,” he says, holding up the canteens he’s been laden down with when Red cocks an inquiring eyebrow at him. “I figured I was as good a choice as anybody.”

“No doubt,” Red grunts. He pulls the canteen in his hand out of the water, checks to see that it’s sufficiently fully, and then puts the stopper in when he’s determined it is. Laying it down next to a second canteen, one that is already full based on the sloshing sound it makes as it’s bumped, he grabs the remainder of the three and dips it underwater. “The sooner there’s enough water, the sooner we can eat.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” Vasquez agrees. Humming slightly to himself, he crouches down by the water, mirroring Red’s position while he unscrews the cap of the first of the canteens he’s brought over with him. “And since you have all stopped flinching if I so much as lift a finger to do work, why shouldn’t it be me who comes?”

He means it as a joke; it’s no secret how he’s chafed under the protective instincts of his friends as of late, but given the look Red shoots him it appears to fall flat. Vasquez sighs. Pulling his first canteen out of the stream, he checks it and then holds it back under when he’s not satisfied with the amount of water inside. “Is there something we need to talk about? You have been … cold, lately. Is there a reason for this?”

A muscle in Red’s jaw twitches, and he sits back on his haunches, cocking his head to the side as if he’s considering how to respond. “It’s not my place,” he says finally, and that is unexpected enough to make Vasquez sputter.

“I don’t understand,” he says when he’s gotten himself under control. Deciding that this is not a conversation he wants to be precariously balanced over open water for, he takes a page out of Red’s book and sits down on the nearest available dry rock. Squirming a little in an attempt to get comfortable, he soon gives it up as a lost cause and focuses on his companion. “Whatever is bothering you, you can tell me.”

“I’m not bothered,” Red says quickly, although Vasquez firmly believes that’s a lie. “I’m … concerned.”

“About?” Vasquez asks. “My friend, if this is going to be another lecture on how I’m not allowed to overexert myself, at least three people have already beaten you to it. No, four,” he adds, remembering Jack’s meandering attempt at telling him he needed to take it easy. “I promise, I’m fine.”

Red rolls his eyes. “We all know that, except maybe Faraday on a bad night. I never said it was you I was concerned for.”

While that is a refreshing change, it does very little to help Vasquez understand what’s happening here. A fact that, when he says as much, earns him another eyeroll. “Nice,” he says when he sees this. “Very nice.”

They sit in silence for long enough that it becomes awkward, and Vasquez inevitably starts getting exasperated. “You know,” he says pointedly, “Joshua seemed to think that if I asked you what was wrong, you would be honest with me. Up until now I’d believed him.”

Red’s eyes narrow warningly, and Vasquez can tell he’s crossed a line without meaning to. “Sorry,” he quickly says contritely. “Didn’t mean to be rude.”

“It’s not me you owe an apology to,” Red says then, and that’s unexpected enough that Vasquez feels his eyebrows rise on his forehead without conscious thought. “I’m not the one you ran out on,” Red continues, effortlessly cutting off Vasquez’s need to ask him for clarification. “I’m not the one you left thinking he’d done something wrong without a chance to give an explanation.”

Vasquez swallows convulsively, and his hands clench of their own volition where they’re resting on his thighs. “You’re talking about Joshua,” he says thickly, “about what happened between us before the mess with Rask.”

“I am,” Red admits. “He never went into details, but I know you left him alone when he didn’t deserve it. Abandoned him.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Vasquez protests, even though he knows that, actually, it was exactly like that. He’d taken the coward’s way out in order to assuage his own hurt feelings, and he’d done so without every considering how that might make Faraday feel. “Or at least, I never meant for it to be.”

Red’s gaze softens minutely. “I know, and one could argue that you more than paid for it with what happened after.”

Vasquez snorts. “I suppose that is one way of looking at it. But this is what’s been on your mind lately, then? You’re concerned about Joshua, not me.”

“He’s just happy to have you back,” Red says with a shrug. “He’s not thinking about anything else.”

“I’m not going to run again, Red.” Vasquez doesn’t quite growl, but it’s a near thing. He’s got everything he wants now – misunderstandings and near death experiences aside - he’s not giving that up.

“Did I say you were?” Rad asks, and Vasquez has to admit that he hadn’t.

However, if that’s not what he’s concerned about then Vasquez doesn’t know what is.  
He sighs. “It would be much more helpful if you would just say whatever it is you want to say.”

“Fine,” Red allows. “If that’s what you want. Did you ever apologize?”

Vasquez stiffens, a hot spike of shame taking root somewhere around his ribcage and twisting at the question. “I – well,” he tries. “I started to, but …” He trails off as honesty forces him admit the truth. “No. I didn’t.”

Red’s disapproval is so palpable Vasquez is surprised he can’t see it. The younger man doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t have to. Instead, he just quietly radiates the way he thinks Vasquez has screwed up entirely. “That’s what I thought.”

“Thought?” Vasquez repeats. “You didn’t ask him?”

“Why would I?” Red asks, appearing genuinely interested. “It’s not my business, and besides, he’d just say he doesn’t care if I asked. He might even be telling the truth. No,” he adds after a moment, “he’d definitely be telling the truth. It means nothing to him at this point.”

“But not to you.” Vasquez says. He’d known Red and Faraday had developed an unexpectedly close friendship in his absence, but it’s only now that he’s getting to see the extent of it. It’s surprising in a sense; they’re two very different men, after all, yet not a bad thing.

“No, not to me.”’ Red agrees. “You left him, made him think he’d done wrong by you without ever giving him a chance to explain his side, made him think he’d driven you into the arms of death. The guilt was eating at him. It still is.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Vasquez demands. He’s seen firsthand the demons Faraday’s carrying these days, has shushed away nightmares just as often as the man’s done the same for him. “No one knows that better than me.”

“Maybe, but that doesn’t mean you don’t owe him an apology.” Red shrugs and begins gathering up the canteens he’s abandoned by the water. “Just because he doesn’t need to hear it doesn’t mean he doesn’t deserve it.”

Vasquez sighs, his rising ire fading as quickly as it had shown up. “You’re right,” he says quietly. He scrubs at his face with one hand before moving to get up as well. “I should have done it long before now.”

“Yes.” Red says. Then he relents slightly, his voice gentling. “He’ll appreciate it.”

“Mm.” Picking up the canteens he’d brought out, Vasquez makes quick work of filling the second one, and gestures Red on ahead of him for their camp. “I suppose I also appreciate your pointing it out.”

Red snorts. “I wouldn’t have said anything if you hadn’t asked. Like I told you, it’s not my place.”

“Yes it is,” Vasquez says then, shrugging when Red shoots him a confused look. “You’re his friend, and a good one at that. You should speak up if you think something is wrong.”

Red’s quiet for most of the walk back to camp, but once they’re within sight of the fire, he stops Vasquez with a raised hand. “If that’s the case then,” he says slowly, “I should tell you not to hurt him again.”

“Or you’ll hurt me?” Vasquez asks, already knowing the answer.

Red doesn’t disappoint. “Yes.”

Vasquez’s bark of laughter has all eyes on him as soon as it rings out.

*****

“Alright, if you kick me one more damned time …” Faraday trails off mid-warning in favor of rolling over and pinning Vasquez beneath him. “It’s the middle of the night, Vas. Everyone else is asleep, so why are you so goddamned twitchy?”

Vasquez freezes guiltily. He hasn’t yet had a chance to drag Faraday away from the rest of the group to have the talk he promised Red, and the whole mess is weighing on his mind. Even worse, it seems Faraday’s noticed. “Lo siento, cariño,” he murmurs quietly. “I’m afraid it’s complicated.”

“How complicated are we talkin’ about here?” Faraday demands. “Because right now I’m lookin’ at a sleepless night for no reason, so I reckon it might be better for you to get whatever it is off your chest.”

“I – yes, you’re right. Get up.” Shoving at him until he does as requested, Vasquez makes sure Faraday’s upright and on his feet and then motions for him to follow him. They can’t go far, not with how dark it is now, but at least the illusion of privacy would be nice and a little distance may keep them from waking the others.

“Are you goin’ to tell me what’s wrong now?” Faraday asks grumpily as soon as they’ve stopped moving. “I imagine it’s got somethin’ to do with whatever it is you and Red talked about earlier, yeah?”

Not for the first time, Vasquez is reminded that Faraday misses much less than people give him credit for. “Yes, yes. We talked, and he made a very good point.”

“That bein’?” Faraday asks when Vasquez trails off awkwardly. He taps his foot irritably on the ground, and it’s enough to spur Vasquez back into talking.

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out because if he doesn’t do it now he may very well lose his nerve. “I should not have left the way I did. I mean back in Huron Valley,” he adds in case Faraday doesn’t know what he’s getting at.

“Back in … oh for fuck’s sakes.” Vasquez feels it as Faraday reaches for him in the dark, curling his fingers around the linen of the shirt he’s been sleeping in and dragging him forward to do away with the distance between them. “Goddamn Red and his overprotective streak, that’s what this is about?”

“Joshua, don’t brush it off,” Vasquez insists. “He was right to point it out, and I should have apologized for it ages ago. I was in the wrong when I left.”

Faraday snorts. “Please, I don’t own you, and you’re here now anyway. I mean, yeah it wasn’t exactly pleasant at the time, but I’ve been through worse and lived to tell the tale.”

“That doesn’t make it right,” Vasquez starts, only to be cut off almost immediately.

“You know what else wasn’t right? You almost windin’ up wearin’ a noose and then gettin’ used as prison fodder instead. I’d say that more than made up for any previous slights, wouldn’t you?”

“That depends,” Vasquez says slowly as a thought occurs to him, “will you stop blaming yourself for what happened to me if I do?”

Faraday sputters. “That’s … not even remotely the same thing!”

“You’re right, what I did was worse.” Vasquez says.

Letting out a disgruntled sound, Faraday leans forward until there’s no more space left between them. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” he says mulishly.

“I never said it was going to be a happy discussion, cariño,” Vasquez points out. He reaches up and strokes a hand through Faraday’s hair to try and sooth away some of his grumbling, adding a kiss for good measure. “But it is an important one, and I am sorry.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Faraday mutters, even as he noses into the touch. “I’m still over it.”

*****

The others are all wrapped up in their camp blankets by the time they return. They all appear to still be asleep, but that doesn’t stop Faraday from picking up a small stone and whipping it at where Red’s lying not far from the fire.

“Busybody,” he says when the stone makes impact.

Not missing a beat, Red snakes a hand out from inside his blankets, grabs the same stone, and sends it whistling back in Faraday’s direction, narrowly missing catching him in the chin as he’s getting back into his own bedroll. “You’re welcome.”

**Author's Note:**

> For the record, this is the last of the visas I had planned for LMTTG, meaning that verse is now essentially complete. I might add to it again if the mood strikes me, but for all intents and purpose this beauty is laid to bed.


End file.
